


Fascinated

by Sonzaishinai



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Arthur isn't Aquaman, Bruce isnt Batman, Cold Bruce, F/M, For warmth and because he needs it, His parents are still dead tho, Human Bruce, Id tag batfamily but they're not the bats, Idk about other characters yet, Kidnapping, Krypton exists as an underwater kingdom, M/M, Mermaid Kal El, Near Death Experience, Sad Bruce, Tags will be updated accordingly, Technically Kal is a merman, he needs a hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 05:57:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16717703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonzaishinai/pseuds/Sonzaishinai
Summary: One moment he was just sitting atop the pier, feet occasionally washed with the salty ocean waves. Then, all of a sudden, he was sinking- sinking so deep there was no way he could have possibly been helped and the voices of his companions were echoing across the waves above.





	1. The Waves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Claw_Kraai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claw_Kraai/gifts).



> Still couldn't sleep and didn't feel like writing a chapter two to Whispers in the Dead of Night yet until I got feedback so I came up with this new plot too except there is no plot and I'm writing sporadically again
> 
> Long story short, I typically find Mermaid Bruce AU's and I've only read one Mermaid Clark AU and it was a chinese fic and rlly cool too but I felt like if I'm gonna wanna sate my desires, I gotta do things myself, not to discredit other people's works, though, all other mermaid fics I've read were fucking awesome (and I especially loved "Come and Take my Breath Away"), but I guess I just wanted to see more of Mermaid Clark?
> 
> Enjoy, any and all mistakes are mine because I don't like proofreading and I wrote this on little sleep (I havent been able to fall asleep) and there is no legitimate plot set in stone like with my previous placeholder.

^(OvO)^

 

It was a silly thing to do, what with how busy he’s been at work recently, but clearly, his kids had begun drifting from him, and the manor no longer reverberated with the joyous yells of laughter that would brighten his days and remind him of why he had to keep trying, at least, to make the world a better place. If a family visit to the beach was what it would take to make the children happy, then he cared, not, that it interfered with his workings as a CEO. He’ll just make up for it later. He had the time, after all.

 

So, as it was, Bruce… well… He didn’t really know how to spend his time there. He was glad, though, when he looked out across the beach to find his kids messing around on the sand. Perhaps this visit would be worth it.

 

Approaching them and noting the already set up gear, he sighed in relief, fumbling as he nearly dropped the ice cream he’d bought up at the resort. God forbid he try walking all the way back there, especially since the line was so long (people, upon recognizing him as Bruce Wayne, offered to let him through, awe in their eyes, but he’d refused politely and waited in line patiently).

 

Gently setting down the treats, he smiled, exasperated, when his sweet-toothed children rushed after their ice cream. Dick had requested Rocky Road for himself and Damian since the youngest had little experience with ice cream while Jason and Duke settled on Strawberry and Tim, Mocha. Of course, Cass, like Damian, didn’t think much for ice cream so he figured he’d get her an Oreo flavored fudge bar, as did he. Alfred, at the corner of their mat, of course, disapproved of the sugary things but didn’t protest. Only a little, similar exasperated smile told of his emotions.  
  
“By the way,” Dick piped up, licking at the ice cream with practically every chance to breathe, “did we bring a beach ball?”

 

At the suggestion of games, the rest of the kids’ attention was netted and, without missing a beat, Bruce held up the deflated beach ball that’d been hidden at the bottom of the bags. He wasn’t gonna tell them that he forgot their own and that he bought this one on their way to the beach, of course. Alfred didn’t comment on it.

 

Immediately, it was snatched out of his grasp while he licked at his own fudge pop and, now empty-handed, he slipped his phone from his pocket only to have that taken, too. Beside him, Cass stood stubbornly, evidently displeased.

 

“No work,” she reprimanded, “just relax.”

 

He couldn’t protest so, resigned to his fate, he was then again left to delightfully enjoy his treat. The kids had already gathered several feet from the tent, Jason blowing up the ball while Tim desperately told them to wait as he fixed his mess of gadgets at his chair and balanced his ice cream in a cup supplied by Alfred with the rest of whom didn’t want their treat getting mussed with sand and the likes.

 

Briefly, Bruce felt like he forgot something and turned to Alfred, asking, “Didn’t Tim say he was lactose intolerant?” and Alfred was sighing in disapproval. They’ll just deal with the issue later. When Tim would be taking his problem more seriously.

 

At that, though, Bruce still had to laugh and grabbed another foldable chair from the bags beside him to set up for Alfred under their umbrella. Be as it may, Alfred was considered family, and he deserved to take a break during this vacation as well.

 

Then. among the crowds of people in the beach, a familiar voice called out. “Bruce!! Alfred!!”

 

At that, Bruce and Alfred were whirling around to face Arthur Curry. Laughing delightfully, he stood up to hug his friend and his partner, Mera, who’d accompanied him to his lifeguard duties. “Long time no see, Artie,” he grinned, which received him a sharp glare and a “likewise” followed by that ever so dastardly nickname, “Brucie” that the media had given him.

 

“Anyways,” Arthur started after Mera and Alfred’s chuckles had died down, “what brings you here? Are your kids here, too?”

 

Proudly, Bruce pointed his thumb behind him and replied, “Yeah, they’re down near the shore playing with a beach ball.” As if on cue, the ball struck the back of his head hard, which was a feat to behold because, Christ, those things are inflatables!! They aren’t supposed to sting!

 

Of course, though, leave it to his kids to prove his assumptions wrong as they dragged him about the ways of everyday society. Another thing learned for the books, he supposed, and Bruce sighed as Arthur guffawed before sending the ball back at his kids and a “Sorry Bruce!!” came from behind him.

 

“Well,” Bruce smiled, hand gesturing towards their items, “there isn’t really much to say but I thought the kids deserved a break and some time to vacation. Things haven’t been all too easy, lately, after all.” Well affiliated with Bruce’s line of work from previous interactions, the couple nodded along. “God knows you deserve the break, too, Bruce. Don’t forget that,” Mera added with that all too knowing gaze, her red hair gorgeous under the sunlight. Bruce reassured them and they were on their way off, over to the lifeguard tower.

 

Settling back into their seats, Bruce slowly relaxed.

 

“She’s right, you know, Master Bruce,” Alfred mumbled beside him, reading through Charles Darwin’s “Oliver Twist”. Bruce was almost tempted to mumble in agreeance.

 

When he opened his eyes again, an hour had passed and the kids had gone swimming. When they returned, they sought out Bruce to help them build a sandcastle, and that’s what they spent the next couple of hours doing, the boys eventually getting competitive and trying to build the best sandcastle they could to impress Bruce while Cassandra relaxed under the umbrella with Alfred. Of course, Bruce told them that he loved all their sandcastles, but they wanted him to choose one specifically. He didn’t get any of them the satisfaction and laughed out loud when the boys whined, throwing tufts of sand onto his feet.

 

After some time resting, though, they decided to pack up and come back later to venture the dock and then the pier after they washed off all the salt water on them.

 

Bruce believes that’s when the rest of the day took a turn for the worst.

 

After having fully explored all the well-decorated shops atop the docks, they’d settled for watching the passing ships when Tim had to suddenly go to the restroom. Hurried, they returned to the resort while Bruce stayed back, informing them that he’d wait for them on the low pier to watch the waves ripple and crash beneath his feet. It had been something he’d always done with his mother when he was younger, the water fascinating him with its icy blue depths and mystery.

 

When the kids departed, Bruce saw Alfred throw him a sad gaze before leaving with them as well, knowing full well they’d cause trouble if he wasn’t there to watch them. He appreciated that he didn’t comment on it, though. Cassandra seemed to have noted it with little concern, though he knew she’d have pressed on if Alfred mentioned it, though of no fault of her own. She was merely curious and he loved his daughter all the same, knowing that all of his kids were different in their own, unique ways but recognizing that they all had their own methods of showing it.

 

Alone now, though, Bruce let his thoughts settle into the background while he peered out across the open ocean, the blue sky settling against the horizon as the Sun beat down on the waves. Below, the water occasionally washed against his feet, wetting them as if they were meant to wash away at his long-buried grief. Looking down, he noted with slight curiosity regarding how impenetrable the ocean seemed to look.

 

_As impenetrable as it’s always been, like when he was still a kid._

 

The rushing foam, again, rose up to meet his feet, and the sea air did wonders to calm him, the fresh, salty breeze quite enjoyable. For a couple of seconds, he wriggled his toes, just to feel the air run through them and to have the water dry against his skin.

 

He didn’t know how for how long he’d lost himself, all whilst other, though notably very few, visitors on the pier looked out across the waves from the midst of it or more towards the end, where he was. No matter, he was glad not to have any disturbances.

 

Then, he heard the call of his kids again, and he turned to find them accompanied by Arthur and Mera, who he supposed was on their lunch break, alongside Diana Prince, an old friend who he’d enjoy having meaningful, political and business-related conversations with.

 

Delighted, he brought his hand up to wave and say hello, to gesture that they come over.

 

Then, suddenly, he felt his stomach drop and his vision was awash with the rushing waters, stinging his eyes. Above, he could hear the fading screams of panic and people calling out for his name.

 

 _My kids_ , Bruce realized with a dawning horror. _My family._

 

And he was, unwisely, panicking below the waters where he sank deeper and deeper, an iron grip enclosed on his ankle before moving upwards and covering his mouth and nose and- god, help him- he couldn’t breathe-

 

Where he could still distinguish between the water and the surface, he saw hands shoot out in the waves, trying to grasp where he no longer was, and then Arthur diving through and into the water before the thing tensed behind him and he was drifting farther and farther from the shore, at a constant elevation, but still, too far out for Arthur to reach.

 

And in his thrashing and squirming, he realized with a dreaded feeling, a thought that shot through his primal instincts for survival- _No one can save me now._

 

And it was like that day when his parents died, again, when he was helpless to do anything, except instead of saving someone he loved, it was himself that couldn’t be rescued.

 

The last thing he saw, as his oxygen was depleting, was the surface coming closer ever so slowly, hand still tight on his face, and the sunlight of late afternoon breaching the waters in columns of light, beautifully illuminating the particles in the water as though they were the skies of heaven waiting to be pierced by its arriving angels.

 

He blacked out.


	2. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got bored from procrastinating on my homework with my piano so I decided to write up chapter two. I might bring in the family the next chapter. 
> 
> IF I ever write a chapter three. Enjoy

When he returns to reality, his awakening is like all others. The slow stirring of his muscles and a groan coming from the depths of his throat, out into the air as a protest against joining the land of the living again, according to his kids. 

 

For a second, he’s tempted to stretch against his bed, to revel in its comfort and residual warmth for a while longer before he has to face the world.

 

And then he notes that something is… off.

 

His bed is a bed no longer and, instead, rough, unforgiving… dirt? Or stone, he thinks? Maybe a mixture of both, Bruce considers before the alarm truly pierces through his sleepy haze. He’s cold, and the air feels breezy and something tight against his skin, damp. He’s not just cold, he notes. He’s cold down to the bones and the lack of warmth settles deep into his person. Fuck. He’s  _ freezing _ .   
  
Refusing to open his eyes, still, he silences himself despite the panic building in his heart.  _ Waves.  _ He hears waves, their telltale crashing and dissipating foam against rocks and other solids. He wants to say that, like all other times, their presence is calming, a light in the darkness that was his mind except no comfort can come for him now.

 

Something beneath the waves snatched him up. At the pier. Now, there’s still waves nearby. He realizes with dawning horror, in the rigid environment he’s settled into, that _ he’s not safe _ .

 

And his eyes snap open, unable to keep shut any longer so long as he knew the place wasn’t safe.   
  
Wherever he was, he’d have made a break for it had the location not been shrouded in complete darkness like the void had been draped over the already settled shadows. Far out from where he is, he recognizes a spear of light piercing through the absences in his vision, one that’s blue-tinted, a jarring contrast against the warm sunlight that kissed the ocean waves before he was being dragged and smothered beneath the water.  _ It’s night _ , he realizes.  _ Oh fuck, it’s night. _ And with that, he feels like he could cry because, god, he- he’s stuck in a cave and- the- the waves.  _ The waves are still nearby _ , he remembers.

 

And suddenly, his senses crash back into him despite the watering of his eyes, and he realizes dreadfully that the waves are horrifically close, just within reach if he’d wanted to stretch out from where he was sitting and so he’s backing up with a sudden, intense urgency, like danger is nearby and he’s paddling his arms back beside him to dig into the sand (?) whilst he crabwalks away from the water.

 

Then he hears a voice call out in the void of darkness and he might as well have a fucking heart attack- “Don’t. Don’t go any further,” in fluent English albeit a choppy accent like it’s not accustomed to the sounds being shaped around its mouth. His mouth. Absently, he realizes the voice sounded deep, like that of another man’s, except it almost sounded raw and coarse as it spoke. Whatever- this English-mimicking thing was, he was in danger, that was for sure, and after his heart jumps in his chest, he’s breathing out panicky breaths as he backs further, unable to register his displacement in the cave and-

 

Behind him, his hands give, slipping down the slope his spot was supported by and he hears water splash as hands shoot out of the water to worm underneath his arms and clutch above his shoulders and draw him to- to the  _ thing _ .

 

In the dark, he registers the toned chest that he’s held against, sculpted, skin rigid and cold. The arms restraining him, from what he can tell, are similarly muscled, almost like those of a human’s, and a crinkle of trinkets sound behind his head.

 

“I told you…,” the voice says again, still reverberating around the cave but more distinctly above Bruce’s head, the chest behind him vibrating with the deep voice and terrifying Bruce. He’d look up, up at his captor but he knew it was useless in this darkness, so, instead, he stayed still, unmoving even as shivers from the cold and fear alike wracked his being. There’s no way he could get out of this and if those muscles were any tell, escape was futile. 

 

The waters beneath them from which the creature held itself up from were frigid- a death sentence. The light from which the moon shined across the waves were too far. Whatever the creature that had kidnapped him was, it was obviously deft and efficient at maneuvering in the water. 

  
_ No use _ , his mind whispered. _ No escape. _

 

And in the arms of his captor, trembling overtook him and he still didn’t move but, instead, he began sobbing silently, small hiccups almost imperceptible to himself leaving his mouth. His eyes, watery earlier, were already letting loose the tears and, god he was so scared. He’s scared and- and escape was impossible. He was going to die in a cold, damp cave with an unknown monster at his neck- and- fuck- he was terrified- he wanted to see his family again- god-

 

His kids. His sweet children- he’d never get to see their faces again, never get to hear them laugh- Timothy was still in high school and he’s so fucking sorry to say that he’ll never get to watch him and Damian graduate- Dick had Barbara- he’d wanted to settle down, but at this rate, he won’t live to see his beautiful children get married, have his grandchildren, nor to hold the sweet angels-

 

At that point, Bruce is too far gone, the soft caresses of the hand brought to his cheek unaffecting him, and only then did worry begin to sprout from the creature behind him. In spite of its efforts, the human continued to shake in his arms and whimper pitifully, eyebrows furrowing deeper and deeper in the dark that it could see in. Its only options now were to either shock him somehow or to make him fall asleep. It didn’t know which was safer, unfortunately.

 

In Bruce’s catatonic state, he felt the telltale slithering of his body moving backward as if being dragged. Around his shoes where cold socks were hidden, he felt the give of the sand underneath his heels and, after a moment, he felt his bottom getting wet with water again and, in spite of how he’d accepted his fate already, he jack-knifed up, kicking into the air in front of him and trying to pull his body forward before he could be dragged underwater again.   
  
And surprisingly, he’s let go, a hand against the small of his back and against his bum as he was helped back onto the mound of (fuck it, it’s sand) sand amidst the waters of the cave.

 

Terrified, still, he scrambles atop it, taking in deep breaths while he tried to calm his trembling, on his hands and knees almost as if to show that he was harmless.

 

He still felt the creature’s gaze on him.

 

Behind, said creature watched curiously and, admittedly, worryingly. Even though he was released, he was still shaking and, somewhere from the depths of his mind, he remembered that humans were less tolerable of dangerously low temperatures. 

 

‘The human,’ it realized, ‘is cold!’

 

That can’t be good, of course, and it reprimanded itself. It had all that time earlier to catch onto that fact but, instead, it had spent hours watching the human sleep peacefully, occasionally reaching out when it began thrashing slightly atop the mound. How foolish!

 

Heaving itself from the cold waters, it climbed onto the mound behind the human and, Bruce, meanwhile, was occupied with trying to stay still in fear. He figured that, to some degree, he wasn’t wanted dead, but what for, he couldn’t figure out. Now sitting on his bum atop the sand, he peered into the impenetrable shadows where he’d been getting pulled, catching the sound of displaced water dripping and rippling and, eventually, the sound of something rough getting pulled against the sand  _ right beside him _ -

 

“Sleep,” the voice demanded beside his ear, an arm getting draped across his chest and pushing him down to the sand seemingly effortlessly and he didn’t want to upset his captor. He obeyed, laying on his back as he felt the body he had been pressed up against earlier curling around his side, an arm slithering between his side and the abdomen behind him to nudge his body till he moved onto his side, the creature following shortly thereafter.

 

In spite of having been cold earlier when it jumped out of the water to catch him, it had… warmed, almost. Not to a comfortable degree, of course, but to a decent enough extent that it had become a slight comfort against his damp clothing, chilled with the midnight air. 

 

And then, in spite of everything, he succumbed to sleep.

 

Meanwhile, the ghastly creature remained awake, watching the human’s sleeping mannerisms. It knew little of what it should do, now. Several times while the human was asleep, he’d peaked the lights of those sky machines peering into the water. It wasn’t dumb. It knew they were looking for his human. 

 

Beneath his arms, the human squirmed and, surprisingly, he twisted in his sleep turning to face it as though he hadn’t been backing away from it earlier. Even more adorably, he seemed to be seeking warmth as comfort and he snuggled deeper into its arms, breathing softly and contently. Eventually, it was too much for the creature and, in the darkness, it felt blood rushing to its cheeks. Even with the temperatures it typically thrived in, and the roughness of its skin, its face became dusted with a slight rosy pink after several minutes of cuddling the heated body.

 

Similarly content, it curled around the human tighter, hugging it to its chest as they shared warmth. Years of dread and pain, squished with the sights of today.

 

It’s so happy. After all, it’s been so long since it’d last seen the human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got bored from procrastinating on my homework with my piano so I decided to write up chapter two. I might bring in the family the next chapter. 
> 
> IF I ever write a chapter three.

**Author's Note:**

> Still couldn't sleep and didn't feel like writing a chapter two to Whispers in the Dead of Night yet until I got feedback so I came up with this new plot too except there is no plot and I'm writing sporadically again
> 
> Long story short, I typically find Mermaid Bruce AU's and I've only read one Mermaid Clark AU and it was a chinese fic and rlly cool too but I felt like if I'm gonna wanna sate my desires, I gotta do things myself, not to discredit other people's works, though, all other mermaid fics I've read were fucking awesome (and I especially loved "Come and Take my Breath Away"), but I guess I just wanted to see more of Mermaid Clark?
> 
> Enjoy, any and all mistakes are mine because I don't like proofreading and I wrote this on little sleep (I havent been able to fall asleep) and there is no legitimate plot set in stone like with my previous placeholder. 
> 
> Claw Animalae I'm gifting this as well because i think its more interesting


End file.
